The Raccoon
by A Rad Churro
Summary: Sam finds an unwelcome guest in his garage...
1. The Raccoon

**Wow...don't know what I was thinking when I wrote this...**

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><p>~The Raccoon~<p>

Sam Witwicky pulled into his parents' garage. Over the last few weeks he had faced deranged humans hell-bent on world domination, shape-shifting robots the size of skyscrapers, and explosions. Seriously, a ridiculous amount of explosions. All he wanted to do now was sleep.

(ominous scratching noises coming from the ceiling)

Sam: Bee…do you hear that?

Bumblebee: Yeah. Sounds like it's coming from inside the roof.

(All of the sudden, Sam finds himself face to face with a girl hanging upside-down from the rafters.)

Sam: GAH! What the hell?

?: Mwahahaha! They call me The Raccoon!

Sam: The…The Raccoon?

The Raccoon: YES! And I've been living in your garage for weeks!

Sam: Whoa, whoa, whoa! What the hell do you mean?

The Raccoon: I mean that I've been surviving off of Pepsi MAX and Lucky Charms!

Sam: You have got some serious issues! AND you need to see a dentist!

The Raccoon: Relax, my brother. I've also been using your supply of enamel-restoring toothpaste. It's minty!

Sam: Look, GET OUT OF MY GARAGE!

The Raccoon: (burrowing back into the ceiling) NEVER! JUST TRY AND CATCH ME IN MY NEST!

Sam: Wait, _nest_?

The Raccoon: Mwahahaha...

Sam: Ugh! I just wanted to sleep!

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><p><strong>Well that was random.<strong>

**Must've been high on Lucky Charms and Pepsi MAX...**


	2. Just Another Day

**My attempt at a second chapter; tell me what you think!**

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><p>~Just Another Day~<p>

Well, Sam was finally able to catch up on some much-needed rest. That is, until…

The Raccoon: TASTE THE RAINBOW! (throws a bunch of Skittles at Sam's face)

Sam: What. The. HELL?

The Raccoon: (jumps up and down his bed) I have the seven a.m. crazies! Also, I was watching you sleep! You were so cute…

Sam: Seven a.m.? SEVEN A.M.? IT'S THREE IN THE MORNING!

The Raccoon: Yes, but it's seven a.m. in Morocco! Mwahahaha! (runs away, climbs into the vents)

Later that day…

Sam took a bite of the BLT he made.

Sam: Aw! (spits it out) What's wrong with this sandwich? It's freaking demented!

The Raccoon: Mwahahaha! I replaced the Miracle Whip with your father's vanilla pudding!

Sam: Oh, come ON! …Wait, what did you do with the Miracle Whip?

Ron: (from his "man-cave") WHAT THE #%! DID YOU DO TO MY PUDDING? SAM!

The Raccoon: Ooh… I better get going. BTW, we're out of Lucky Charms. (leaps into the vents)

Bumblebee: Dude, I think you should call the police. Or animal control.

Sam: Or an exorcist.

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><p><strong>Hi! So if I continue this story, there will definitely be more Autobot action and less human stuff. Please review!<strong>


	3. Swimmy Muerto

**No goldfish were harmed in the making of this fanfic.**

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><p>~Swimmy Muerto~<p>

After a few days of being tormented by a mentally unstable raccoon-girl, the Witwicky family was teetering precariously on the brink of sanity. Solution: CANCUN!

And that is how Bumblebee came to housesit. A few hours in, he was loitering about the living room in his alt form. Everything seemed fine until…

Bumblebee: Where's…where's the goldfish?

The Raccoon: (popping out from the vents) Oh, you mean _the_ goldfish?

Bumblebee: Uh, sure.

The Raccoon: Yes, well, I'm afraid our tangerine-hued friend has crossed over into the spirit world. In other words, you guys left him out in the sun and he kicked the bucket. So, was he your fish?

Bumblebee: (cyber-sniffle) Yeah, Sam gave him to me. I named him (electronic sob) _Swimmy_!

The Raccoon: Ah, yes. Well you'll be happy to know that I am in the middle of mummifying your aquatic acquaintance. Happy Afterlife!

Bumblebee: WHAT?

Our favorite banana-colored Autobot was momentarily speechless. He soon recovered the ability to speak, unlike in the films.

Bumblee: WTH? WHAT KIND OF SICK PSYCHO DOES THAT?

The Raccoon: (raises her hand) Me! And I prefer the term '_nauseatingly incoherent_'. I mean, '_psycho_' is just hurtful.

Bumblebee: (still in shock) MUMMIFYING MY FISH? That is messed up on SO many levels! Why would you do that?

The Raccoon: How would I know? I'm psycho!

Sam's guardian began to twitch.

The Raccoon: _¡Adios, mi amigo amarillo! ¡Yo tengo loco! ¡Lococococo! ¡Ai!_ Mwahahaha! (retreats back into the vents)

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><p><strong>*Junior High Level Spanish<strong>

**In memoriam~ Swimmy: 07/11/11 – 09/10/11**


End file.
